


Inertia

by emmerrr



Series: To live will be an awfully big adventure [18]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Comfort, I'm not really sure what this is but here have it anyway, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: Sometimes when you're having a bad day, all you really need is someone to sit with you while you ride it out.





	

Andrew sat on the floor, legs crossed, back against the wall. The curtains were shut, which shouldn’t have been unusual considering night had now fallen, but Andrew hadn’t bothered opening them all day. It was from a need to keep the light out; he hadn’t wanted to watch the shadows dance across the floor as the day progressed. He didn’t want to have to see the evidence of time inching forward when he himself felt paralysed in a moment.

His phone lay on the floor beside him, just far enough that he would have to stretch slightly to pick it up. But even though he had seen it light up several times with messages, and buzz twice with incoming calls, he couldn’t find the willpower to just lean forward and get it. Even when he saw Neil’s name flash across the caller ID.

All day Andrew had been sitting there, alone in his apartment, utterly incapacitated. He felt distantly hungry, a dull ache in his stomach from not eating anything all day, and he also had a pounding headache because he hadn’t had anything to drink either. His fingers itched from a need to smoke, and although his cigarettes and lighter were in his pocket and it should have been the easiest thing in the world to just pull them out, his hands were a dead weight at his sides, palms up on the floor. Moving his hands — moving at _all_ — was out of the question.

Andrew knew that he needed to drink some water, and have something to eat, and maybe go to bed and try to sleep, but he was rooted to the spot. There were so many steps required in doing any of those things, and Andrew couldn’t seem to figure out what the _first_ step was. It seemed like a monumental task, and the more he thought about it, the harder it became to move.

His phone started to buzz again and Andrew’s eyes flickered to the screen, Neil’s name flashing obnoxiously across the front. His fingers twitched, but still he didn’t — _couldn’t_ — reach for it. Neil was probably on his way over from the airport now anyway; his season was over and he was flying down to undergo talks to join Andrew’s team. They’d be in the same place again, saving each other a fortune in travel expenses. Andrew didn’t really feel things like excitement but he recognised that this would be a good change; a settling change. He felt better when he and Neil were in the same city, and he’d feel even better than _that_ when they were on the same team, in the same apartment, in the same bed.

Of course, that was in the future. Right now, today, Andrew needed to overcome inertia long enough to start functioning again. He knew that he’d done it before and he could do it again, but he couldn’t remember how right now. All he could do was sit, and wait.

Where Andrew was sitting, he had a straight shot to the front door, so he heard the key in the lock, and he saw when Neil pushed the door open and stepped inside. He took one look at Andrew, alone in the dark, and slowly started to reach for the light switch on the wall.

“Don’t,” Andrew said, and it came out in a croak, voice hoarse from disuse. It hurt his throat. Neil’s hand dropped to his side immediately, and after another measured look at Andrew, he took his duffel into the bedroom.

He didn’t reappear for another twenty minutes or so, but Andrew could hear the shower cut on, and then the ruffling of Neil getting changed. Andrew leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as he listened, reacquainting himself with the sounds associated with Neil sharing his space again. It was grounding; comforting in a way Andrew didn’t want to think too much about.

When Neil padded back out of the bedroom, he left the door open so that some of the light flooded through and they weren't in complete darkness, a compromise Andrew could live with. Neil was wearing a pair of Andrew’s sweatpants, noticeable because they were just a little too short. The t-shirt Neil was wearing was baggy, suitable for sleeping in, and his forearms were bare, prominent burn and knife scars on display. Neil had been wearing the black armbands that matched Andrew’s own when he first arrived, but he had taken them off now. He had never felt the need to hide from Andrew.

Neil came over to where Andrew was sitting and crouched down in front of him, blue eyes intent and searching as he studied Andrew’s expression. Andrew stared back dully. His head felt very heavy.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Neil asked at last.

It took almost all of Andrew’s strength just to shrug.

“Do you have a headache?”

“Yes,” Andrew said, and Neil nodded. He stood up and went into the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewing the cap as he walked, then crouched back down again. He held out the bottle to Andrew.

“Can you take it?” Neil asked, but Andrew just stared at the bottle blankly. Neil nodded again, and put the bottle down on the floor next to Andrew’s right hand, close enough that it was touching the outside of his index finger. The bottle was cold and it didn’t feel all that pleasant on his skin, but Andrew still didn’t inch away. Neil had already taken the lid off, so if Andrew wanted some water, all he had to do was clasp the bottle and pick it up. The fact that he was touching the bottle already made it an easier process to digest. Andrew understood this and relaxed, ever so slightly.

Neil got back to his feet and disappeared back into the kitchen, from where Andrew heard the telltale sounds of Neil rummaging through the cupboards and the fridge. “What do you feel like eating?” he called out.

“I don’t,” Andrew said.

“Okay,” came the reply, but the noises didn’t stop as Neil evidently started making something anyway.

Andrew was suddenly hit by the need for Neil to come back into the living room; he wanted Neil where he could _see_ him, but he didn’t want to _look_ at him, and the contradiction was infuriating. So much so, that Andrew started to clench his fist in irritation, and when he opened his hand again, he let it wrap around the water bottle. Slowly, he lifted the water to his lips and took a small sip, and then another. His throat felt better immediately.

By the time Neil came back with a plate of sandwiches, Andrew had managed to drink half the water bottle. Neil put the plate down to Andrew’s left, then went and sat on Andrew’s other side. He kept a thin line of space between them, but he was close enough that Andrew could close the gap if he felt like it.

“I still have a headache,” Andrew said, a little petulantly if he was being honest.

“You can’t have a painkiller unless you eat something,” Neil said matter-of-factly. “And eating will probably help anyway.”

Andrew didn’t respond, but he did slowly uncross his legs and stretched them out in front of him. He’d been in the same position too long and the movement was painful as his circulation worked to fix itself. But there was something to be said for the pain; it was better than feeling numb, at least. Once he wasn’t feeling so stiff, Andrew picked up the plate Neil had put next to him and placed it on his lap. He started methodically tearing the sandwiches up into tiny pieces and then ate them one by one, stopping every so often to drink more water.

Neil said nothing the entire time, a silent sentinel at Andrew’s side. Andrew could see him in his periphery, and Neil’s head was back against the wall, his eyes half-closed. He looked tired, which made sense — he’d been travelling today and it was getting late. Andrew would tell him to go to bed but he knew there wasn’t any point. Neil would stay out here with him all night if Andrew didn’t move — he’d done it before. He’d stay there for as long as was necessary. It was both comforting and infuriating.

When Andrew finished eating, he put the plate indolently on Neil’s lap and was rewarded with an eye-roll before Neil took the plate to the kitchen to wash it up. Andrew heard the rush of water for a minute, and then it cut off and Neil’s face poked out from behind the kitchen door.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Not so bad,” Andrew said. It wasn’t throbbing anymore — just a dull ache now, and Andrew was used to that kind of pain.

“You want a painkiller?”

“No.”

Neil nodded, then turned out the kitchen light, detouring to the front door to double check it was locked on his way back to Andrew’s side. This time when he sat down, their shoulders touched, and Andrew found himself leaning into the contact. After a moment, Andrew let his head drop to Neil’s shoulder, and Neil — ever so slowly — covered Andrew’s hand with his own. When Andrew didn’t pull away, Neil held it properly, linking their fingers together.

This was something that Andrew had learned in the last five years; Neil liked to hold hands. It wasn’t something they ever really did all that much in public, and it was very dependant on whose company they were in, but when they were alone Neil would often reach for Andrew’s hand. And it was fine; Andrew didn’t care enough to pull away, and even he had to admit that there was something to be said for having someone there. To feel their pulse point in their wrist match your own. Well, not just someone, but Neil specifically. Andrew sort of understood the appeal of that kind of closeness even if he didn’t often initiate it.

Neil obviously took Andrew’s compliance as a sign that he could ask questions. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

“A bad day,” Neil said, not a question, nothing but understanding in his tone. Neil had had his own fair share of bad days, but his manifested in other ways. Andrew got very still whereas Neil got antsy. Neil fought the urge to run.

“A nothing day,” Andrew said. “I got up and came in here, and I was going to open the curtains but then I changed my mind, so I sat down here. And then I just didn’t get up.”

Neil nodded; Andrew felt Neil’s cheek brush Andrew’s head where it still settled on Neil’s shoulder.

“Do you feel any better now?”

 _Better_ perhaps wasn’t the right term, but it worked well enough for the situation. “Yes,” Andrew said. "A bit." Having Neil there helped; he had always been good at prompting Andrew into action.

“Do you want anything else to eat?”

“Ice cream.”

Neil huffed a dry laugh; it ruffled Andrew’s hair. He squeezed Andrew’s hand and then let go. “Coming right up.”

“There isn’t any,” Andrew said. “I finished it yesterday.”

Neil sighed. “The things I do for you,” he said, but there was no bite to it, and Neil got to his feet. He grabbed his shoes out of the bedroom, and turned on the table lamp in the living room as he headed back to the door, grabbing the keys off the hook.

By the time Neil got back, Andrew had moved over to the sofa and switched on the TV, muted on the Cartoon Network. Neil had clearly bought enough to stock the freezer judging by the bulging carrier bag he had in hand, and after he had dropped them off in the kitchen, he came back out with a pint wrapped in a hand-towel and a spoon.

“It’s so your hands don’t get cold,” Neil said when Andrew raised an eyebrow at the towel, and if Andrew had it in him to smile, he probably would have done.

“It’s ice cream, Neil. I’m hardly going to get frostbite,” Andrew said.

Neil just shrugged and joined Andrew on the sofa. Andrew buried his feet under Neil’s thigh as he rolled the towel covered pint in his hands. The towel was a thoughtful touch, not that Andrew would ever admit it. He let his eyes focus on the TV as _Adventure Time_ played with no sound, and decided that once he had finished his ice cream he was going to have a cigarette or three and then go to sleep in his bed with Neil.

“Hey,” Neil said, and Andrew flicked his gaze over to see Neil fix him with that dopey smile of his. “I missed you.”

And Andrew couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “You too.”


End file.
